


Book Club

by CalmIsOverrated



Series: Rest of Tomorrow [2]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale and Crowley in Love (Good Omens), Domestic Fluff, M/M, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:06:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24957334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalmIsOverrated/pseuds/CalmIsOverrated
Summary: Or- How Aziraphale accidentally starts a book club and Crowley thinks it’s hilarious.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Rest of Tomorrow [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1470539
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	Book Club

**Author's Note:**

> S o f t is all I want rn
> 
> Tumblr Calm-is-overrated
> 
> I’m kinda rusty from not having any motivation in the slightest to write at all.

The weather had been pleasant this week so Aziraphale had decided to accompany Crowley while he was gardening. Aziraphale had brought a book, one of his many go-to titles, when he wished to relax with something familiar. There was a pitcher of fresh lemonade and biscuits for them to share. Aziraphale sat on the bench that was directly beneath a large apple tree- no fruit would ever dare fall on Aziraphale, lest they face Crowley’s wrath- that had been planted some months ago and was growing a bit faster than a normal one.

“What’cha reading mister?” The voice of a young boy called out.

Aziraphale looked up to see a child of about thirteen standing outside the fence surrounding their cottage. He had his chin propped up on his hands and his head was tilted to the side like a curious puppy. His friends, Aziraphale guessed, were standing far behind him watching.

The boy was probably dared to come up and talk to Aziraphale by his friends. It came as no surprise that Crowley and Aziraphale were extremely antisocial, immortal beings of a higher power- though their neighbors didn’t need to know all of that. There was a frankly baffling amount of gossip about them, the two strange men living together in a cottage in South Downs. But for the most part it kept the locals away- if anything they were a bit wary but not hostile.

Crowley had brushed off his hands and was now watching the interaction. He had been pulling up a few troublesome weeds out of the Pansies while Aziraphale was reading and getting some fresh air outside. “Oh,” Aziraphale blinked, “er. It’s the classic, Little Women by Louisa May Alcott.”

“Oh,” the boy’s face scrunched up. “But that book’s boring. My mam made me read it last year. I could barely get through it.”

“Perhaps,” Aziraphale slowly nods. He understands that to some people the slower pace of reading isn’t for everyone. When Crowley was reading if someone didn’t get stabbed within the first few chapters he'd put it down and proclaim it too boring. “I suppose if you don’t understand the symbolism around it, and the events happening. It’s a wonderful tale of perseverance in the face of tragedy, loss, and war.” He stopped himself from mentioning the author was a lovely lady as well.

“Really?” The boy looked sort of interested at that, glancing at the book in Aziraphale’s hands with less distaste.

“I'm Ezra Fell. What’s your name, young man?” The angel asked as he discreetly miracled the latch on the gate open, opting out of snapping and doing it with a simple twitch of his finger. The boy looked down in surprise when it unlocked- seemingly by itself- with a click and lightly pushing the gate open. “Tom, Thomas Williams is my name.”

“Want to sit down and read with me for a moment, Tom? I believe I have a spare copy laying around somewhere… Crowley, love?”

“Yes, angel?”

“Would you go get my copy of Little Women off the bed stand? Should be on my side. Ah, thank you, my dear.”

During his brief exchange with Crowley the young boy had entered the garden, nervously not straying from the stone path and sat on the opposite edge of the bench. It was easy to see he hadn’t expected to be invited in, the children hiding in a bush a bit away were watching with wide eyes. Aziraphale gave the boy a disarming smile and was satisfied when his shoulders grew less tense. “Here my dear boy, you can take this one for now.”

It was an older copy, not one of the original prints, but it was a good thirty years old. Tom held the book very gingerly, careful of the pages that were yellowing with age. “Flip to the first page and start reading. When we get to the second chapter we can go through what we read.”

Crowley came back from inside the house a moment later. He handed Aziraphale the book he dunked and kissed him on the forehead. Then the demon stalked back towards his flowers and snarled at them to stop slacking, the shaking leaves could’ve been the wind if it wasn’t a stagnant day. Thankfully Tom didn’t notice since his nose was in the book.

Twenty minutes and a few chapters in the boy, Tom, said, “I should get going, my mam’s gonna call me for supper soon. She doesn’t like it when I get home after dark. I think I’ll give this book another try. But, Mr. Fell... Could I come back tomorrow?”

Aziraphale made eye contact with Crowley, the demon shrugged with a spade in his hand to say he didn’t mind. The angel couldn’t remember if he had anything especially pressing planned for tomorrow.

“Of course, dear boy, come over around noon. Keep the book if you’d like.”

* * *

When Aziraphale awoke the next day he’d nearly forgotten his promise. He and Crowley sat in the little kitchen drinking tea and finishing breakfast. Even though Crowley didn’t eat much he had found enjoyment in cooking for Aziraphale.

“Do you still have that kid coming over for your little book club?” Crowley asked as he waved away the now clean dishes.

“It is not a book club, but yes.”

Crowley raised his eyebrow and gave him a disbelieving- if irritatingly knowing- look. Aziraphale glared and he shrugged. “I’ll throw some cookies in the oven then? Kids like those.”

“Good idea, love.”

By lunchtime Aziraphale had tidied up the sitting area and was awaiting their guests. Crowley had disappeared off to who-knows-where and probably avoiding potentially meeting new people. He was fixing the couch cushions for the third time when he heard a soft, almost hesitant, tap-tap at the door.

He opened the door and was faced with the lad Tom standing beside another young girl. Perhaps one of the children from yesterday. Both of them had books in their hands.

“Can Wendy join too?” Tom asked hopefully.

“I brought my own book,” she said shyly and held up a rather beaten looking copy of Little Women, it was obviously a well loved book.

Aziraphale couldn’t hold in the soft smile that appeared on his face. He couldn’t deny a child wanting to read. “Of course, my dears, come right in,” he moved back to let them inside the house. “Oh! Would you like cookies? My husband made them fresh this morning.”

* * *

The next week there were four. And then more started showing up. As Aziraphale had walked over to the kitchen to collect some treats for the children he saw Crowley. The demon was sitting in one of the chairs and he was- not so secretly- hiding his snickers behind his cup of tea, and his golden eyes glinted with humor and mischief.

Aziraphale felt an uncontrollable blush rise to his cheeks- he’d been spending too much time with humans and picking up their reactions, but he supposed he could stop that bodily function if it really mattered- as he realized what the demon was laughing at and glared. “Oh hush, you wily snake.”

The blush seemed to only serve in making Crowley laugh more. “If you keep stealing all these kids the parents are going to be confused,” Crowley said smugly, his chin resting on his hand. With a discreet miracle- the demon was asking for it- Crowley’s hand slipped out from under him and he squacked as he fell forwards without the support.

Aziraphale huffed and grabbed the cookies without a glance back- ignoring the grumbling from Crowley- he wasn’t  _ stealing  _ children.  _ They _ kept coming to  _ him _ !

* * *

Two weeks quickly turned to a month, and now a group of six kids ranging in ages eleven to fourteen, they finished Little Women and Aziraphale assumed this would be the end of it. It wasn’t.

“We’re reading Frankenstien in school this month,” Tom said, “can we read that one next?” All of the children had turned their pleading eyes to him and Aziraphale agreed- not feeling all that surprised.

* * *

Several more weeks passed and another book was planned, and a couple _more_ after that. One day there was a knock at the door. It wasn’t a usual day they set aside for what Aziraphale had- begrudgingly- admitted was, in fact, a book club, so he wondered if it was one of the locals or a child wishing to join.

“I’ll answer it, dear,” Aziraphale said, setting his book down on the bedside table and straightening his jacket as he made his way to the door to open it. When he peeked outside there was a woman with short brown hair standing on his porch, looking the slightest bit nervous.

“I’m Thomas’ mother,” the woman kindly introduces herself and holds out her hand which Aziraphale takes.

“Ah! I’m Ezra Fell. I can see the family resemblance, Mrs. Williams. Would you like to come in? I can make a kettle of tea.

She shakes her head. “No, I have to get going soon. I just came by real quick to say thank you. For doing what you’re doing. Thomas was… He didn’t like reading and he fought with the teachers and didn’t get along with his classmates. Until he joined your reading club and you taught him to enjoy reading. You’ve made him a much happier kid, Mr. Fell.”

Aziraphale blinked his wide blue eyes in surprise to hear this about the sweet little boy he’d met. “Of course, my dear. Thomas is one of the most avid readers I’ve seen. He has a very bright future ahead of him.” Mrs. Williams hugged the angel and now slightly less reluctant book club owner.

After she left, Aziraphale came back inside. Crowley was where he’d left him. Laying in bed, still in his  black silk pajamas- despite the fact it was nearly one in the afternoon- with a curious look on his face.

“Who was that, angel?” Crowley asked. The demon’s hair was mussied, having fallen asleep with wet hair and not straightening it out that morning- it took a lot of Aziraphale’s willpower to not reach over and fix it.

“Hm? Oh, it was nothing, Crowley,” Aziraphale said with a smile. “Would you like some tea?”


End file.
